


Doctor's Orders

by WritLarge



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas in space, F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, Outer Space, Secret Saito Gift Exchange, Space Station
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 14:11:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13078554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritLarge/pseuds/WritLarge
Summary: Ariadne is a deep space researcher who has just returned from a long solo contract and absolutely does not need snuggling, even if it is medically indicated. Oh, and apparently she's forgotten about Christmas. Fuck.





	Doctor's Orders

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenThayet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/gifts).



> For QueenThayet who prompted "snuggle". First time writing Ariadne/Mal - I hope you like it!

“Wait, what?”

Eames smiled, “It’s part of the medically indicated treatment, love.” 

“But, snuggling?” she stared up at him.

“You’ve been showing signs of irritability, insomnia, and mild depression. That’s somewhat expected when you’ve recently returned from an extended period of isolation. You’ll continue with our regular appointments and check-ins, and physical therapy as well, but you need more contact with people.”

Ariadne wrinkled her nose. She hardly knew anyone on the station now and she’d never been particularly touchy-feely. It was one of the reasons she’d been given the assignment in the first place. Ariadne worked well alone. 

“I’m not touch starved.”

“That’s what you say,” Eames squeezed her shoulder. For a moment, the contact was almost painful, her body tensing up immediately. “Would you like me to call Mal?”

Ariadne jerked away, “No! I mean, that’s... that’s not necessary.” At all. God. 

“She wouldn’t mind.”

No, she wouldn’t, Ariadne sighed to herself. Mal was very supportive, and very sisterly, and very very unattainable. Snuggling with Mal would more likely raise her stress levels than soothe them. 

Eames wasn’t aware of that, however. At least, she hoped he wasn’t. He knew her too well. Eames had been on the station longer than Ariadne had been assigned to this sector. He had a wealth of experience with the researchers and scouts going through this part of deep space, returning from months or years on isolated ships or at far-flung research outposts. Arthur had been assigned to Eames two years ago when he’d finished a fourteen-month stint with nothing but a handful of low-level AIs for company, returning with insomnia and a vicious temper. Ariadne would have bet good money on the psychiatrist being shoved out an airlock back then. She was now 90% certain they’d fucked it out instead given that Arthur had been reassigned to the other onsite psychologist at lightspeed. Whatever had happened, they’d been orbiting each other ever since, with Eames settled at the station and Arthur eventually giving up on contracts to take a position in Operations. He’d probably be running the place in another three years once Saito rotated out. 

Ariadne tried not to, but she hated them a little for the way they’d fallen together. It had been five years since she’d met Mal. Five years of friendly smiles and agonizing kisses against her cheek. Half a decade of wistful daydreams that made her feel like a teenager again. 

Still, it could have been worse. Mal could have met someone else, married or left the station. Ariadne might have gotten over her if she had, or maybe she’d still be pining. Yeah. Probably. 

“I’ll figure something out,” she said, deflecting Eames’ concern. He raised a dubious eyebrow, but remained silent, scribbling something on his tablet. “Are we done?”

“No, but you’re free to escape. For now.” Ariadne scowled at him. “Happy Christmas.”

“What?”

Eames blinked at her, “Happy Christmas? Have you not noticed the decorations going up?”

Ariadne had been annoyed by there being more people in her way than usual this morning. Time felt different in space and, while they were still using an earth-centric calendar, dates were almost meaningless.

“Um, right. Merry Christmas.” Okay, so Eames may have a point. She was definitely feeling more bah-humbug than holiday cheer right now. That didn’t mean she had to humiliate herself by asking a stranger for a cuddle, though. 

Ariadne fled into the hall and walked toward the hub where, yup, Christmas decorations were being brought out in full force. None of it was real. Greenery was too hard to transport out here, but even if it was artificial the effect was nice. Back on Earth, her parents were probably covering the house in cedar boughs. Fuck. How pissed were they going to be? Ariadne vaguely recalled promising them something. She’d been out of contact last Christmas and she hadn’t made it back for the one before that either. She probably owed them a massive gift box and an excessively apologetic video message. Not that they ever sent her anything, citing how expensive it was.

Christmas was going to suck.

She was watching Nash’s bot herd tacking up garlands when she heard her name. 

“Ariadne!” 

Mal. Of course, it was Mal. 

“Hi,” she said, smoothing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Isn’t it lovely?” Mal tipped her head towards the elegant tree in the centre of the hub. “And how are you adjusting, ma puce?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Yeah. Rebuilding some lost muscle from the lower gravity and everything. How are you?” Mal looked wonderful. She was as beautiful as ever, her eyes sparkling with inquisitiveness. That was one of the things that had first drawn Ariadne to her, Mal’s drive to know and understand the secrets of the universe. She just didn’t relish having it directed at her personal problems.

Mal shook her head, ignoring Ari’s attempt at redirection. “And what does Eames have to say?”

“I’m... okay.”

“Are you?” Damn. She had never been able to lie to Mal.

“Sort of? I guess I’m not sleeping well and Eames thinks I need to work more on reconnecting with people.”

“Reconnecting how?”

“Oh, you know. Connecting. He worries I think? I mean, I think I’m fine. I feel fine. Mostly. I’ve been on longer placements, you know, and-”

“Ari.” Mal’s voice cut through her rambling. “What did he say?” 

“Um, he said I need more direct contact with people.”

“Direct contact. Surely he was more specific than that?” Mal was right. Direct contact could have meant anything from simple conversation to pressing against someone, skin on skin.

“He said snuggling,” Ariadne mumbled the words. Did she really have to say it out loud?

“I’m sorry. What was that?” Mal’s fingers brushed her arm.

“Snuggling! He said snuggling,” she snapped, her frustrations surging. “Fuck! Sorry. I hate this.”

“Ariadne-”

“I feel like crap,” she dropped her head into her hands. “How is a cuddle supposed to fix that?”

Mal was quiet for a long moment, the sounds of the station swirling around them. 

“Well... I suppose you won’t know unless you try.”

Ariadne heaved a sigh. “I guess so.”

She let Mal guide her back to her room, a hand gently placed on her back, feeling pathetic and weak. What was the point? She wouldn’t be able to sleep. Eames should have given her something to take.

When they arrived, Ariadne didn’t bother raising the dim lights, she just kicked off her shoes and crawled into bed. Then the bed sagged beside her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Following doctors orders. Hush now,” Mal laid down. “On your side, ma puce.”

To stunned to argue, Ariadne complied and soon had Mal spooned up against her back. This was impossible. It wasn’t happening. It had to be a dream, except it couldn’t be because she couldn’t fucking sleep. 

Mal’s hand stroked down her arm, “Stop thinking so loudly and close your eyes.” 

Ariadne did as she was told.

When she woke she was warm and alone. Mal was gone. Ariadne scanned the room, but she hadn’t left any trace. The computer told her that six hours had passed, however, so she’d slept at least. Guess the snuggling had helped after all?

Feeling lighter than she had since she’d returned, Ariadne dressed and went to the gym. With a series of exercises to complete and a session with her physical therapist, her morning flew by and by lunchtime she found herself back in the hub admiring the transformation. It was almost entirely decked out in green and gold, small bursts of red enough to contrast without being garish. Tiny shimmery lights were strung along the ceiling. 

“Did you sleep well?” Ariadne startled, turning towards Mal. 

“Oh, yes. I did. Thanks,” she said, fervently hoping the lighting would help disguise her blush. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I’m afraid so. We’re a bit busy today.”

“Oh, well. I guess I’ll see you?” Mal nodded. Ariadne didn’t think much of it. It was only one night. Mal was just trying to help her out.

Then Mal knocked on her door again a few hours later. With an overnight bag. And so one night turned into two, turned into four until nearly a week had gone by and Ariadne felt like whatever weight she’d been yoked to had finally dropped away. 

Sleeping with Mal, snuggling together, should have been excruciating. Ariadne was used to being awkward in her presence, friendly but stilted with nervousness, yet somehow in the night their touches were warm and sure, the dark snuffing out the anxieties of the day. It was undemanding. Calm. Ari’s shorter form curled into Mal’s arms as though they were a set, designed to nest together. 

She wanted it to last forever.

“Shall we meet for lunch?” Mal asked on their seventh morning, pulling the brush through Ariadne’s hair one last time. Mal kept her hair in a short, elegant bob, and she delighted in brushing out Ari’s longer locks when they were free from her usual tight ponytail.

“Sure.”

They’d fallen into a routine, getting ready in the morning. Mal’s toiletries littered the bathroom and she’d even bullied Ariadne into switching her moisturizer. Normally that sort of thing took ages, ordering and waiting for shipments, but Mal took it seriously enough to stockpile and readily shared her bounty.

Unfortunately, Ariadne would still be waiting for anything else she wanted and she’d forgotten about Christmas approaching. Even if she had remembered, by the time she’d gotten back she’d have missed the ordering deadlines. She’d have to think of something to do for Mal. Maybe one of the little shops would have something already here?

That morning they took a different route instead of going directly through the hub. Ariadne had an appointment with Eames. She wasn’t looking forward to admitting he’d been right about the snuggling. Whatever. Once she was done she could scour the hub shops for gift ideas. 

“Say hello for me,” Mal said, disengaging from where she’d linked arms with Ariadne.

“I-”

“Oh!” Mal exclaimed softly and Ariadne followed her eyes up. In the hall outside of Eames office hung a sprig of mistletoe. 

“Fuck.” The curse escaped before she could smother it.

Mal laughed merrily, “Oh, ma chérie.” Cupping Ariadne’s cheek gently, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Five years worth of buried hope sparked to life in her chest.

Neither of them heard the door open.

“Well, hello.” They might have jerked apart at Eames’ greeting if Mal’s arm hadn’t come around Ariadne’s waist to hold her in place. 

“Um, hi.”

“You know, I distinctly recall saying snuggle not snog. I realize they might sound similar to the untrained ear-”

“Eames!” If the intensity of her blush had been true heat she would have burst into flame. 

“Could you give us a moment?” Mal asked.

“Of course,” Eames stepped back into his office, closing the door and leaving them alone in the hall.

“Mal, I-” Ariadne floundered, trying to find words that would fit around the lump in her throat. It was a kiss under the mistletoe. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, was it?

“This is good, yes?” Mal’s nose brushed against hers. Good? It was amazing and more than she’d ever hoped for. Ariadne managed a nod and Mal smiled. “I think so too.”

“Really?”

“Did you doubt it? I’ve nearly moved into your room this past week. Slept in your bed every night. Ma puce, do you think I would do that for anyone?”

Ariadne gave up on finding the right words and surged onto her toes to kiss Mal instead. She could have stayed there for hours, but she reluctantly pulled back after a minute, too aware of Eames being within earshot.

Mal hummed and released her, reaching up to pluck the artificial mistletoe from the low ceiling.

“What’s that for?”

“Medicinal purposes,” she kissed Ariadne again, on the cheek this time. “You’d better go in. We’ll have time enough to talk later.”

“Okay,” Ariadne said, still a little breathless. “Right. Later?”

“Later.” Mal gave a little wave and left, heading towards the hub.

Ariadne licked her lips, tasting the traces of Mal’s lipstick. That had actually happened. She sucked in a deep breath and then another, thoughts whirling in her head. Medicinal purposes? Ariadne wondered where she’d find the mistletoe later. Oh no, now she really had to figure out something for Christmas. Mal would-

“Will you be joining me sometime today, poppet?” Eames asked from where he leaned against the door frame.

Ariadne rolled her eyes, “You’re a terrible doctor.”

“Yes, I’m awful. Clearly, there’s no benefit to my recommendations, whatsoever.”

“Shut up.” Ariadne gave him a friendly shove, too happy to work up any real ire. “Mistletoe? Really? Don’t you have any professional standards?”

“I’m sure they’re around here somewhere. Why don’t you take a seat while I find them?” he looked pointedly into the room.

“Dork,” Ariadne went in and dropped into one of the comfortable chairs, grinning. “All right. Let’s get this done. I think I might actually have a girlfriend to shop for.”

Christmas was going to be great.


End file.
